


Oathbreaker

by Wagontrain



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-24
Updated: 2010-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagontrain/pseuds/Wagontrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family reunions are difficult between a paladin and a warlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oathbreaker

The Light advised that gluttony was detrimental to an individual's spiritual development, and so Lanial made do with a simple meal of bread and salad. The seaweeds of Theramore were different than the sort she was used to, but Kalimdor was a strange sort of place that she'd never quite gotten used to. She paused, offering her thanks and devotion to the Light for the meal, before picking up her utensils and trying the salad. Even with the pretense of balsamic dressing, Lanial thought it was far too salty and the years of living in Theramore since the flight from Lordereon had done nothing to change her mind on that.

The clomping of heavy metal boots cut through the ambient clatter of Theramore's mess hall, alerting her to an armored figure approaching behind her. She gripped her utensils tightly, cursing herself for not being armed, and checked quickly behind her. A marine in Theramore's colors stood behind her and Lanial forced herself to relax. "Sir Paladin? Lady Proudmoore requests your presence immediately."

Lanial rose immediately, only realizing the waste of her meal as she stepped away. "Lead the way, please." Proudmoore's tower was nearby, and in scant minutes Lanial climbed her way to the top of the endless stairs. At the wide room at the summit Proudmoore stood warily minding a binding circle while the empty helm of the Lich King watched impassively from the desk.

"Ah, Sir Lanial," Proudmoore said, glancing away from the circle. "The marines found this one skulking around the island. Since she's Horde we'd usually expel her, but well..." she motioned to the circle, "...she asked for you."

Groaning would be undignified, and so Lanial stepped forward to the end of the circle and peered down at the creature inside with feigned stoicism. There was little to compare the two women; Lanial was tall, tanned and crowned with hair of chestnut which was ornamented with a jeweled hairclip, and the forsaken crouched before her was hunched, decaying with a mess of dirty blond hair. There was almost nothing to suggest they were sisters.

"Hello," Serisa said, stretching the word out.

Proudmoore cleared her throat behind them. "The political situation with the Horde is...complicated, paladin. If she's ally or kin to you, I put her in your charge to get her off my island. If not, I'll have the marines eject her."

"No," Lanial intoned. "No, she is known to me. I'll escort her from Theramore and as far as the Barrens. She'll not trouble you again."

*

The tower and buildings of Theramore had shrunk far into the distance before Serisa spoke. "It's good to see you again."

"The thing that possesses my sister's body will not speak," Lanial snapped. She had dressed in her full armor, unwilling to travel with the monster unprepared and found her hand clenching on the hilt of her mace.

"I'm your sister as much now as I was when we lived in Stratholme," the forsaken rumbled.

Lanial stopped, turning on the other woman. "My sister was a good person. She would not have become the walking corpse you are or make herself a...a..."

"A warlock?" Serisa offered.

"An apostle of darkness," Lanial spat. "My sister was a schoolteacher. You worship demons!"

"I worship nothing but the Dark Lady," the forsaken scowled dangerously. "Passing judgment always has been easy for you." She turned away and heaved the sort of sigh only used by one no longer accustomed to breathing. "Do you know what it takes to become a warlock?"

The paladin answered immediately. "Damning one's self. Taking the easy route to power."

"Easy?" Serisa smiled, and seated herself on a stump. "No no no. Hardly easy. Not if you want to keep any small part of yourself." Lanial looked on suspiciously. "Yes, the power I wield comes from demons. And a lot of warlocks -more than not, I'd wager- are satisfied with the arrangement of power for loyalty to their patron demon."

"But not you," Lanial replied drily. "You're _special_."

" _I will not be controlled_ ," Serisa snarled with sudden fury. Lanial stepped back, surprised at her venom and Serisa quelled herself. "You don't know what it was like, being in Arthas' thrall. For years. The things he made us do..." Her shoulders convulsed, though her physical ability to cry was questionable at best. Lanial's expression softened, and Serisa went on. "When the Dark Lady freed us from him, I promised two things; that I would follow her, and that I would make certain that I could never be abused as Arthas did again. _Never_. So, I became a warlock."

Kneeling before the other woman, Lanial asked: "What's happened?"

"I made a pact with a particular demon. N'aaed. Of course I had no intention of keeping it, but I learned enough to take the power he offered me and avoid the cost. Or so I thought. He's coming for me, I can feel it."

Lanial bowed her head, offering up a prayer for her sister. "Such...such is the way of demons, Serisa. It's a price you've brought on yourself."

The warlock shook her head slowly. "By the Light, Lanial, I'm a schoolteacher. This shouldn't be my life." Her eerily luminous eyes held Lanial's gaze, and the living sister sighed.

"What would you ask of me?"

"We need to kill N'aaed," Serisa intoned immediately. "If he's dead and gone, he's no threat." She saw Lanial vacillating, and wheedled "What's one more dead demon?"

Lanial rose. "This...this would serve the Light. Where is the creature?"

"Somewhere out in the Nether. It doesn't matter. I've been hiding from him; if I reveal myself, he'll be here very quickly." Serisa took to her feet. "When he comes, we'll be ready for him. That clearing?" She pointed off to a stretch of land rising out of the marsh. Lanial nodded her assent. "I'll need some time to prepare."

Serisa took several items around herself. To Lanial they appeared to be a mis-matched collection of herbs, body parts, small figurines and other, less identifiable objects. The Light recoiled as Serisa began her chant, low and rapid. She read from a book bound in leather of questionable origin, and as she continued on a miasma of unholiness drifted up from the ground under her feet.

"What are you _doing_?" Lanial asked, covering her nose.

"These are very...complicated incantations." Serisa pointed a finger in the air and scrawled luminous letters around herself. "No one's ever done what I'm doing. I need to be careful." She glanced to her sister. "You know, I honestly do miss being a schoolteacher. I miss the children." Lanial nodded curtly, uncertain how to answer.

The moon was high when Serisa announced that she was ready. "Midnight," she said lightly. "All the major rituals have to happen at midnight. It's tradition."

Lanial raised her shield, and Serisa leaned her head back and shouted: "N'aaed!" Her cry resonated through the Nether, and immediately a massive creature exploded into existence. The Pit Lord looked like an elephant crossed with a nightmare; it stood on four stocky legs, with another two limbs clutching a massive glaive. Useless bat-wings rose over the monster's terrifying leer.

"Little corpse," it rumbled, its voice causing ripples across the waters of the marsh. "Little corpse, have you decided to give up the chase?"

"You'll not have her, demon," Lanial thundered, drawing the Light around herself. "You'll never menace her, or anyone else again."

"Certainly not," Serisa said. "I'm amending our agreement, N'aaed."

"What?" Lanial demanded, trying to turn to face the warlock without turning her back on the Pit Lord.

"Shush now, I'm talking." Lanial felt her body seize up in pain, and dropped to her knees with a gasp. Serisa stepped forward next to her sister, petting the paladin's hair absently. "Instead of my soul, I'm offering you the soul of this noble paladin. Pure of heart. I'm fairly certain she's even a virgin."

The demon stomped forward, using the tip of his glaive to raise Lanial's chin. "You offer quite a bargain. Her soul is far more valuable than yours."

Serisa crouched next to her sister. "I'll miss you," she said. Plucking the jeweled clip from Lanial's hair, she said "Mother's, wasn't it? I'll keep this, as a memento."

" _No!_ " Lanial bellowed, holy radiance shining from her. Serisa stumbled back, and Lanial pointed at the Pit Lord. "Demon, be gone! I _command_ you!" N'aaed bellowed as the paladin's exorcism forced him, if only briefly, from Azeroth. If he plaintively screamed Serisa's name as he faded, Lanial didn't hear it. " _You!_ " she shouted, bringing Serisa low with a blow from her mace. "You betrayed me!"

Serisa pulled herself up from the mud. "I thought it was worth a shot. Like he said, you're quite valuable."

Lanial's only response was another crushing blow, driving the forsaken back into the ground. "I believed you! I believed you were my sister!" Her rage guided her hand, and in moments her weapon was stained with whatever passed for blood in the forsaken. "You...! You...why aren't you fighting back?"

The paladin stepped back, watching the warlock warily. "Oh, come," Serisa croaked. "Don't stop now." Her shattered hands worked a spell, but Lanial smacked them aside.

"You want to die, don't you. You set all this up so that I'd kill you." Serisa glowered at her for a long moment before finally speaking.

"You always were an unnecessary pain, you know that?"

Lanial shook her head. "I don't know what foul magics you're working, or what role I play in them, but I'll have no further part of it."

"That's really quite generous of you," Serisa spat past broken teeth. "But I've got all I need from you. Sarnos!"

The darkness coalesced around her, shaping itself roughly into a massive humanoid body. "Yeeeeess?" It breathed.

"Kill me and you can go free."

"Finally," it hissed. Lanial summoned the power of the Light to drive it back, but nothing could dissuade the demon from the order to finally destroy its hated mistress. It grasped the withered forsaken's body and crushed her, breaking her to pieces.

The corpse lay between them, and Sarnos looked up at Lanial with something approximating joy. "Free," it intoned, and melted back into the shadows of the marsh.

Lanial stood over her sister's body, confusion and disgust plain on her face. She tried to understand what had just happened and reason out her sister's complicated suicide, but it was the sort of reasoning that lent itself to madness. Perhaps madness was all it was.

Suddenly, the body began to glow with sickly green light. It became brighter and brighter until Lanial couldn't bear to look at it; moments later the light abruptly vanished, and Lanial blinked the afterimages clear from her eyes to see that Serisa's corpse was gone.

Bowing her head, Lanial invoked the Light's blessing to protect her sister, where ever she had gone and whatever she had done.

*

The grass was warm under her, and unspeakably comfortable. The woman took a moment to stretch her arms before opening her eyes and seeing the sun, pure and beautiful, beaming down on her.

She sat up, frowning at her unfamiliar surroundings. The field appeared pleasant enough, though she had no recollection of how she'd gotten there. She checked over herself; a simple frock and shoes covered her body, and blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders. Resting on her thighs were two items; a hairclip and an ominous-looking book. Gathering her hair back, the woman held it in place with the clip and glanced down at the book. Her curiosity urged her to open it, to page through it and see what secrets it held, but something deeper in her mind -something stern that made clear it would brook no argument- told her it was not yet time.

The woman rose, and spied a town in the distance. Brushing off her skirts, she set off to see what it held in store for her.

  



End file.
